Charles M Moore
Sacre Bleu - Poem by Charles M Moore
I asked, 'Yes'?
She cried 'No'!
Then on and on she had to go
like a gun ra-tat-tat-tat
screaming that she is too fat
up and down
she paced a beat
grinding teeth and stamping feet
then she grabbed her coat and hat
and stormed out of the door like that
So much for tea at Sacre Bleu
I just enquired
one lump or two.
Comments about Sacre Bleu by Charles M Moore
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye